Venepoetics
“Your Dream-book is a numinous Computer...” (Wilson Harris)
6.30.2023
Venepoetics: A Postscript
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I started writing Venepoetics when I was living in Boston, in September of 2003, after a summer of reading many poetry blogs from the U.S. ...
4.27.2023
Canoabo en la noche / Vicente Gerbasi
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Canoabo in the Night The night invaded me and I was sad like a shut door. Other doors organized the story of the night into flower stars ...
11.20.2022
La noche / Eugenio Montejo
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The Night The night slowly gathers in my tree-like body. I am insomniac, immobile, as the cold stars of the fog fall into my hands with a l...
2.27.2022
Toda la noche / Guillermo Sucre
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All Night All night the wind has been sounding through the trees all night I've loved you laborious fire I spark the instant give time ...
7.26.2021
Guillermo Sucre o el país imborrable / Antonio López Ortega
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Guillermo Sucre or the Indelible Country (Photo: Roberto Matta) In today's Venezuela, writers and intellectuals die without receivi...
7.22.2021
Diarios 2015-2017 (fragmento) / Armando Rojas Guardia
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Sitting on the steps by the door to the building where I live, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a gust of solar light that nearly makes the s...
4.18.2021
Ser / Rafael Cadenas
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Being If you caught a glimpse why aren't you glowing? why is your language the same? why don't your words reach the body? Ah, it...
1.10.2021
La nada vigilante: II / Armando Rojas Guardia
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II The impossible poem exhausts me before we even get started. I spell out its syllables without knowing them, merely disposed to a diapha...
8.11.2020
Lluvias / Armando Rojas Guardia (1949-2020)
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[ Armando Rojas Guardia, Caracas, c. 2019. Photo: Marlo Ovalles] Rains Augus...
6.09.2020
Textos por fuera / Eleonora Requena
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Texts on the Outside [ Eleonora Requena / Esteban Fonseca ] • deciding not to wait increases the speed of the droplets another ...
3.24.2020
La pandemia / Armando Rojas Guardia
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The Pandemic The pandemic brings us back, even without our voluntarily intention, to the cosmic sense of existence. The same one I learned...
2.23.2020
Ovidio en Cabimbú / Ednodio Quintero
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Ovid in Cabimbú In a distant, ruined and today nearly forgotten country where people said there’d once been a paradise, the poet laureate,...
1.18.2020
Confesiones de un papelero estrafalario / Víctor Valera Mora
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Confessions of an Eccentric Stationer                  ...
12.30.2019
Roma /10/1/73 / Víctor Valera Mora
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Rome /1/10/73 This cigarette butt This little bit of ground coffee This cherry yogurt These few grains of salt This fistful These cha...
12.01.2019
Navegaciones / Eugenio Montejo
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Navigations Returning at night when the trees stand watch turning off the lamps one by one and declining shutters darken, men and thei...
11.20.2019
Noche natal / Eugenio Montejo
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Native Night Caracas was further away than anything I’d ever dreamed of in my nothingness, that’s why it was night when I arrived and t...
11.03.2019
Si vuelvo alguna vez / Eugenio Montejo
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If I Ever Return If I ever return it’ll be for the birdsong. Not for the trees that will depart with me or eventually visit me in autum...
10.19.2019
Práctica del mundo / Eugenio Montejo
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Practice of the World Write clearly, God doesn’t wear eyeglasses. Don’t translate your deep music into numbers and codes. Words are bor...
9.01.2019
A Victoria de Stefano / Ednodio Quintero
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To Victoria de Stefano [ Photo: Vasco Szinetar ] Reading Victoria de Stefano is a privilege, an aesth...
7.23.2019
Venezuela en verso / Javier Rodríguez Marcos
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Venezuela in Verse Venezuela has become a powerhouse of the poetry in Spanish that is relatively well-represented in Spain from a publish...
6.18.2019
Caracas ha muerto / Alonso Moleiro
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Caracas Has Died Caracas loses its hemodynamics. Its fury decomposes. Its vital signs are flattened. It’s losing its vitamins. Its defense...
6.17.2019
En la oscurana / Ednodio Quintero
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In the Gloom By candlelight, as if we were devotees of Saint Gaston Bachelard, my beloved Rosbelis and I sit down to share our cold frugal...
5.28.2019
Casi un país (16) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (16) Juan has arrived punctually. I like his suit, it’s the color of medlar. He doesn’t say a word to me; but it do...
5.27.2019
Casi un país (15) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (15) In a doorway a boy is playing with a perinola , its cord is bending with such agility, growing, curving, while...
5.18.2019
Casi un país (14) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (14)  Maybe pushed by the wind, by the crowds, I have arrived at 23 de enero .   23 de enero i...
5.05.2019
Casi un país (13) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (13) Could I be a descendant of Humboldt, the man who discovered rivers, jungles, mountains, caves? * Casi un p...
4.27.2019
Casi un país (12) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (12) A bicycle is a huge seahorse, descending the tunnel. The air has the solidity of a feather. I want to touch th...
4.14.2019
Casi un país (11) / Elizabeth Schön
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Almost A Country (11) I step onto Urdaneta Avenue. The crowd crosses it avidly, promptly, as if wanting to find out where it ends. T...
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